A Lonely Heart's Sorrow
by TBD
Summary: How does Lindsay move on from Danny’s betrayal?
1. Summoned

**Title:** A Lonely Heart's Sorrow

**Author**: Dragonfly (TBD)

**Rating**: T

**Pairing:** Danny/Lindsay

**Summary:** How does Lindsay move on from Danny's betrayal?

**Spoliers:** Set after season 4. No spoilers for season 5.

**A/N:** This is my way of dealing through the muck that was season 4 and finding my own way to move past it. I hope you enjoy.

Thanks to **SallyJetson** for the beta.

.

**Chapter 1: Summoned:**

Lindsay stares at the empty chair at her coworker's desk. She doesn't know how she prefers it, empty or full. The empty chair brings her loneliness to the surface, causes her to realize once again that she hasn't made many friends outside the team, and her family might as well be a world away. No family, no friends, no one left to love, no one to love her.

When the seat is full it only serves to kindle her ever-smoldering anger as another reminder of the hurt, pain and betrayal. Now she keeps the anger locked up, away from the prying eyes of the world, but she had let it out all those months ago when the indiscretion was first revealed, when it would not be bottled up but instead roared and burned her to her very soul. She had known that something had been wrong, but to hear the words, to know the truth, that had been a debilitating blow.

From that moment it felt like everything had changed and yet the world kept up with its maddening pace and everyone just played along, continuing on with the same old song. She was left alone, alone to walk with her head bent low, feeling a fool because everyone must have known. She avoided their eyes and what they couldn't disguise; pity, it was always there, and that she could not bear.

So bear it she didn't as her energy transferred to work; the upside of her life splitting in two, for her career would be a success even if her social life was at rest. Mac had hinted that if she continued, even the higher ups would be swayed, and that could only mean a promotion coming her way.

A loud knock kicks her out of her reverie as she jumps back to reality only to see her boss staring down at her from the doorway.

"Can I see you in my office for a second?"

Embarrassed at being caught in her thoughts, she tries to sort herself out once again. "Um… yes... I just need to finish this page of paperwork. I'll just be a minute,"

"Okay, take your time." The trace of a smile lingers on his face as he slowly walks away.

She breathes out a sigh. She hates being summoned. It always makes her feel like a teenager in the wrong.

As she enters Mac's office, she notices that they are not alone, he is there too, her thoughts in the flesh. He has changed dramatically over the last year. After Reuben died he had entered his dark period, had pushed everyone away, had stopped looking after himself and had become a dark and moody soul. After she had found out and they had officially broken up, he hadn't seemed much better, but now, little by little, he seems to be coming out of his fog. His hair is cut short, the bags beneath his eyes have vanished, and his overall mood has improved. He is returning to his old self, bad jokes and all. The only part of him that still shows signs of damage are his eyes, the small glint of something buried but not forgotten, but even that is getting harder to find. Part of her wonders if he is seeing someone new, if this mystery woman is responsible for bringing him back from his depths. She quickly banishes the thought from her mind, not needing to picture him with another, not again.

"I called you two in here because there is a conference happening this weekend in Boston," Mac interrupts, "and I want you two to present your findings from the Ramera case."

Danny crosses his arms unimpressed. "Come on Mac, these things are just a waste of time. It's just a bunch of suck ups putting on a show to try and impress other suck ups. It ain't the type of thing you usually waste our time with."

"I think it could be a good opportunity. You two did some excellent work on that case and came up with some creative and innovative solutions with the evidence. It would give both you and the lab some exposure." He turns to Lindsay, gauging her reaction. "You never know whose attention you might grab at something like this."

She doesn't know what to think of the proposal. It would be good for her career, and she could proudly present her blood spatter interpretation that had cracked the case, but then there was Danny, the man who had broken her heart and smashed it for good measure. She knows they can work together, can both be professionals, but they haven't spent anytime alone together since it happened, and now she's being expected to spend the weekend with him, in a nice hotel, not to mention the close quarters of a long car ride. But this is work, and it needs to be her priority. She can't let him regulate her life any longer, not if she is ever going to move past it, past him, and on with her life. There really is only one choice.

"I'd be happy to do it Mac," she tries for the confidence she isn't feeling.

Danny looks at her before he simply nods, his previous complaints forgotten.

"Great, you leave in a couple of days. Have a twenty-minute presentation ready for each of your portions, and have a good time. Who knows, you might actually have fun."

Lindsay rises to leave, wondering what she has gotten herself into.


	2. Bon appétit

**A/N**: Thanks everyone who reviewed or just decided to check out my story. It's been awhile since I've written so its nice to get such great feedback :)

Thanks to **SallyJetson** for the beta'ing.

**Chapter 2: Bon appétit:**

The long ride up to Boston is awkward and silent, the small talk having run out by the time they reach New Haven. All that is left is the roar of the engine and the music drifting up from the radio but neither is able to break the spell. Upon arrival, barely a word is spoken as they gather their separate keys and enter their rooms; both relieved from the burden of each other's company.

Lindsay spends her isolation busily preparing for the next day, memorizing, planning and perfecting every fact, every slide and every utterance. She wants to make a good impression, needs to have something good come out of the weekend ahead.

Knocks intrude upon her work and with a sigh she goes to answer it. Looking through the peephole she sees Danny, hands in his pockets as he bounces on the balls of his feet.

She opens the door and his eyes linger on her. She feels their familiar stare as they pierce straight into her, but only for a moment before it's gone, and they're as good as strangers once more.

"You hungry?"

"I'm okay. I'll just order room service and keep working on the presentation. Thanks anyway," she responds politely, only politely, nothing more.

"Oh come on. You have to eat sometime. I'm sure your presentation is fine. If you keep looking at it you'll just keep changing things all night." He knows she's debating, that she's weighing all the pros and cons of a simple meal with him. "Come on, the hotel restaurant looks good, we don't even have to go anywhere."

She's about to answer when her rumbling stomach does it for her.

"I'll take that as a yes."

* * *

Arriving at the crowded restaurant they grab the only available seats at the bar. The silence overpowers them once again as the uncomfortable feeling returns. She repeatedly wrings her napkin while he taps his fingers restlessly against the bar.

"This is nice." His words, contrasting his thoughts.

"Yeah. You're probably right that it was good to take a break from the presentation. Do you have all of your slides ready?" she asks, desperate for conversation to keep the stifling stillness at bay.

"Yeah, I'm good to go. But let's not talk about work. So how have you been?" he asks, chancing an uncertain glance in her direction.

"I'm fine, been busy, you know how it is." She keeps her politeness and her distance, protecting herself with every brick she builds between them. "So what looks good here?" She draws their attention back to the menu, another layer of brick complete.

Slowly he turns to the menu. "You don't have to keep doing that you know."

"Doing what?"

"Not actually talking to me. I care about you. I just … I just want to know how you're doing. We used to be close," he responds softly, still feigning interest in the menu, not daring to risk looking at her.

"We used to be a lot of things," she replies just as softly.

Danny breathes out a sigh, the silence his only refuge as the noise of the busy restaurant dances around them, every beat moving them farther and farther from one another. Bodies, only inches apart, hearts out of reach.

Danny is drawn from his thoughts by another's presence. He looks over to see a man talking to Lindsay. He takes the guy in, tall, blond hair, business suit. Nothing that screams anything other than an ordinary guy, nothing except the eyes that are eye fucking his girl! His anger threatens to boil over as he imagines pummeling him against the wall before throwing him out the window, but then he remembers, she isn't his girl, not anymore

"I couldn't help noticing you from across the bar. Name's Mike. Mind if I buy you a drink?"

Danny's anger almost explodes as he sees Mike lean in a little closer, gently brushing himself against her. Lindsay smiles up at her would be suitor and Danny knows he needs to stop it.

"Sure thing pal. I sure as hell would love a drink. I'd bet my **partner **here, would love one too, right Linds?" A smile plastered to his face as he turns towards Mike, moving a little closer to Lindsay.

She stares daggers at Danny. She hasn't missed his creative use of language. Before she can answer, Mike is already backing off. "Sorry man, didn't know you two were together."

"We're not," Lindsay rushes in, flashing Mike a million dollar smile. "We just work together."

"Okay, um well, why don't I just leave you my card…my room number is on the back, and if you want that drink later, just let me know." He hands her the card, fingers lingering at her touch. "It was nice meeting you, Lindsay."

Lindsay watches him walk away before turning her attention back to Danny, shooting him a pointed look. He withers under her glare. "What? He only wants to get in your pants."

"Yeah well it's been a long time since someone was in my pants," Lindsay replies through her anger, before visibly sagging, loneliness replacing anger once more. "It's been a long time since anyone wanted in my pants."

She looks away from him before giving up to leave. "I'm not really hungry anymore."

Why couldn't life just let her be happy? Why couldn't he let her be happy?


	3. Moving on

**A/N**: Thanks to everyone who's reading this fic. This next chapter's rating might need to be lifted to a T+.

Thanks to **SallyJetson** for the beta'ing.

**Chapter 3: Moving on:**

She sits on the bed, gently turning the piece of paper over and over in her hand. Putting it down just to pick it back up again.

_Mike Preston_

_Retail Consultant_

_Chicago, Illinois_

She puts it down once more, and stares at the tiny seemingly insignificant piece of paper. This isn't her; she doesn't just meet random people in hotel bars. What future could they have starting from that, and yet for once that is part of the appeal. She reaches out her hand only to jerk it away again.

No, this isn't her. It is just the hurt from the earlier incident and the need to get back at Danny, to punish him and prove that she can move on, that she has moved on. She is better than this. She gets off the bed and heads to her computer, proud of her decision.

She tries to focus on her work but her eyes keep drifting to the bed, to that small scrap that conceals her future and continues to mock her.

_A drink couldn't hurt. It doesn't have to mean anything, just two people getting to know each other, just drinks, a few laughs, nothing serious, and it doesn't have to go beyond that._

She gets up and turns the card over.

_Rm 326_

_Maybe it would be good, a chance to get out again without any stress attached. Just a pleasant evening with a new friend._

She glances in the mirror as her tired image stares back, the hours of work and exhaustion evident. She quickly decides to change into something more appropriate, taking care to choose her lacy bra and panties that had made their way into her things. A quick plastering of make up and she is ready to go before she changes her mind, before she chickens out and returns to her old self, her lonely self.

* * *

The room number stares back at her as she stands outside his door, unmoving. The courage and conviction that had brought her here is suddenly feeling silly and impulsive. She wants to run and hide but instead her body acts of its own accord as her knuckles tap firmly on wood. No going back.

Her heart pounds as she hears the latch release and is soon face to face with the familiar stranger.

"Hi," she stammers. "I was wondering if you were still interested in that drink."

His face breaks into a smile. "Sounds great." Then looking back and forth down the hall he adds, "Your partner isn't going to tackle me is he?"

"No, he's just…just overprotective is all," she lies, not wanting to complicate the situation.

"Well I can assure you that he has nothing to worry about. I will be a perfect gentleman."

They arrive in the now quieter restaurant, and she begins to relax as his hand on her lower back gently guides them to a table. They order drinks and talk about their lives, she about Montana and her move to the big city, he about his work and life in Chicago. Throughout the night he causes her to laugh more than she has in a long time, and she doesn't mind it when he reaches for her hand, he doesn't mind it when her foot accidentally brushes his leg.

Their quiet conversation is interrupted as a large and boisterous party arrives.

"Maybe we should continue this somewhere quieter," Mike suggests over the volume. "My company is paying for this trip so we could always raid my mini bar."

She knows it's not the best idea but the combination of alcohol and company makes her happy and she doesn't want it to end. "Sure," she smiles.

They stand up and he again guides her to the elevator, this time his hand a little lower down her back.

* * *

Conversation suddenly loses its appeal once in his room, and she tries to remember why she thought this was a bad idea as his hands glide along her sides and she instead remembers what it's like to be touched. He lays them back against the bed, his hand traveling to cup her breasts, his mouth to the sensitive skin at the nape of her neck. She closes her eyes, raising her body off the bed, desperate to feel more.

Clothing is removed; her lacy bra reveled for a moment before hitting the nightstand. Her fingers crawl down his chest, missing the ripples she is used to feeling as he continues to kiss and caress her skin.

They stop for a moment to remove the rest of their clothing and for him to don a condom before they are at each other once again. He enters her swiftly and she moans at the feel of being filled but as they start their pace it all begins to feel different. He doesn't know instinctively what she needs, where and how she wants to be touched, when she wants to be in control and when he can take the lead. They don't fit as perfectly together as she has with another.

She realizes all of this in her hormone-induced thoughts. She knows he is a substitute for something else, someone else, and yet as she cums for him, she really doesn't care.


	4. The Other Shoe

**A/N**: So I hope I still have readers after the twist in the last chapter. Here's the next one where things take another turn.

Thanks to **SallyJetson** for the betaing.

**Chapter 4: The other shoe:**

Lindsay lays basking in the afterglow of her first non-self-induced orgasm in months. She turns on her side to face her companion; his smile matches her own before it changes to a long-drawn out yawn.

"Well, I got to get up early tomorrow. It was nice meeting you Lindsay," he states casually as he stifles another yawn.

She is thrown for a moment. What had made her feel so good a moment before now leaves her feeling dirty. She knew their encounter wasn't going beyond the weekend and yet she thought they had shared a connection, not something so easily dismissed as soon as the act was completed, or the mission accomplished.

She nods awkwardly as she begins to grab her clothes, keeping her body hidden under the blanket, suddenly shy and weary of his eyes on her. She grabs her bra from the nightstand, feeling ridiculous that she had worn such a garment, its sex appeal now dwindling. As she pulls the bra to her, a small object falls from the table. She bends to look at its golden surface staring back at her, mocking her further.

"What is this?" she asks as she throws the object at him, the anger and betrayal of the whole situation sharpening her voice.

"Seems pretty obvious to me," he replies calmly as he carefully slides the ring onto his finger.

"You're married! Why the hell did you sleep with me if you're married?" she screams at him.

"You can't blame a guy for wanting a little fun while he's away. It's not like you didn't enjoy it too," he joins the ring in mocking her further.

"You're scum, worse than scum. I can't believe I let you touch me," she states as she dresses faster than she has ever dressed before.

"Trust me baby, I didn't make you do anything you didn't want to do. If you are going to regret it as soon as it happens, maybe you should stop sleeping around with strange men."

The anger erupts from Lindsay as she throws the remains of the ice bucket at his face and slams the door, desperate to get away.

* * *

She finds herself at the bar, a shot of tequila in her hand. The liquor burns as it flows down her throat, cauterizing her wounds. She motions the bartender for another.

_What is it with guys and cheating?_ She wonders. First she's the victim of it then she's a participant in it. She feels like she is going to be sick, but that's cured with the next shot down her throat.

She reaches into her pocket and pulls out the notorious business card. Her fingers grip the edges as she carefully pulls them apart, tearing it in two, destroying the object that has caused the terrible cascade of events. She lays the pieces down in front of her, but they continue to stare back at her revealing their message.

_Mike Preston_

_Retail Consultant_

_Chicago, Illinois_

_Work: 312 – 637 - 8921_

_Home: 312 – 638 – 3207_

She remembers how she felt when she learned she'd been cheated on. How she wondered when it had happened, how long it had been happening for and wishing she had known sooner instead of a month afterwards. That had almost been the worst part, feeling like a fool because she hadn't known. Either way it was a betrayal that hurt like hell, but if she had been the first to know, then maybe she wouldn't have felt so foolish and alone.

Her mind wanders to the unknowing wife who she has betrayed even though they have never met. The thought causes the third shot to slide down just as easily as the others. She reaches into her pocket and finds her phone as her fingers move about the pad and for the second time that evening there is no going back.

It rings once, twice, three times before it is finally answered by a sleep-induced voice. "Hello??"

Lindsay panics and downs another shot of liquid courage.

"Hello? Is any body there?" The voice asks again.

"Hi," Lindsay finally responds.

"Who is this? Do you have any idea what time it is?" The voice demands.

"Sorry. I …. I just needed to call. Is this the wife of Mike Preston?"

"Yes. Is everything okay? Is Mike hurt?" The guilt cuts Lindsay like a knife.

"He's fine. I just… I needed to call you and let you know that… that your husband is cheating on you," she finally blurts out.

"What? Who is this?"

"I'm sorry, I'm soo sorry. I didn't know. I wouldn't have. I….Sorry," she staggers as she tries to catch the breath which has suddenly left her.

"You're wrong. Mike wouldn't do that. He loves me. He just wouldn't do that," the voice replies before becoming defensive. "Who the hell are you anyway? Is this your idea of a sick joke? What are you playing at?"

"I'm sorry. I just thought you deserved to know. I'm sorry," Lindsay replies before hanging up.

She motions for another drink, followed by another, and another…


	5. Sleepless in Boston

**A/N:** Thanks for everyone who is still on this ride with me A/N: Thanks for everyone who is still on this ride with me. I think it is about time we checked in with our other favorite CSI.

Thanks to **SallyJetson **for betaing.

**Chapter 5: Sleepless in Boston**

The night seems never ending as Danny continues to stare at the ceiling, trying to interpret the stucco into some sort of meaning. He avoids closing his eyes knowing that all he'll see is her image, the hurt and sadness he creates a contrast to her earlier happiness.

A glance at the clock, its blood-red numbers only revealing what he already knows, he needs sleep and needs it soon. He tries to relax, imagining Lindsay, curled in her bed, hair all over her pillow, a picture seen a thousand times, yet never cherished at the right time.

He needs to forget her, stop letting her rule his life, there is no going back, that is his strife. He sits up and grabs his clothes, where he's off to, nobody knows. All that is certain is the need to forget, not with liquor or pleasure, just simply with sweat.

Leaving the elevator, all it takes is one glance, for his feet to still and his heart to dance. But looking closer he sees the empties, the sorrow and the pain, all things he can't explain. Gently approaching and taking a seat, he quietly waits and supports, knowing she's everything he wants, everything he needs, and everything he has no chance at having.

* * *

In her misery she notices a familiar feeling, one she's been unable to escape. She knows he's there, that he's always there, but not sure if it makes her happy or angry.

"Whhat you doing heree?" she slurs still unsure of his presence.

"Just in the neighborhood. You having a good night?"

"Oh yeah. That's why I'm drinking by m'self,"

He motions for a drink and starts taking a sip. "See, now you're not drinking alone."

"Yippee," she replies as she downs the amber liquid.

He swirls the ice in his glass, watching it gently hit the sides, resounding a small clank, gathering his nerve to probe further into the thoughts of his reluctant partner, unsure if she wants him to know, unsure if **he** wants to know. "So, what happened?"

She looks at him before turning back to stare at the bottom of another empty shot glass, another feeling emptied as the numbness takes over.

"I got laid."

The revelation hits him and twists in his gut. He tries to remain calm, thankful for the drink at hand as he takes a sorrowful sip, increasing his strong grip. "Didn't go well I take it?"

"What was you're first cl'e Sherlock?" She pauses to take another drink, this time sipping instead of shooting, the memories and guilt pushing through the numbness. "He's married. Now I'm a cheater. A dirty cheater like you."

Danny grimaces. He would never forgive what he'd done, what he'd done to her in his moment of weakness. "You're not dirty. Did you know…I mean… before," he gestures to finish his sentence, unable to say the words, afraid to picture it, afraid to lose control.

"No. After."

"Then you're not a cheater."

"I still feel like a cheater, a rotten guilty cheater," she responds softly.

His heart breaks at her emptiness, and he flashes back to himself, to the times he'd rather forget. "Guilt is a tricky thing, and trust me, drinking doesn't help. I've tried it. I've tried a lot of stupid things to try to help, they all leave you worse off than you were before. It causes you to lose the things you care about, the people you care about."

"Good thing everyone I care about lives on the other side of the country," she responds as she finishes her drink and motions for more.

"What about your job? You still care about that? Cause I bet it won't look real great being hung over for our big presentation tomorrow."

She pauses, the glass poised at her lips, deciding. She swigs it down and motions for another.

"No, she's had enough," Danny tells the bartender.

"No I haven't. Pour me another."

"She's had enough. Either you stop serving or you and me have a little chat." He gently places his badge on the bar, grounding his authority.

The bartender shrugs, puts the liquor away and clears the empty shot glasses.

"Fine." Lindsay gets off the stool, wavering slightly on her feet. "I'll go find another bar to serve me."

Danny moves to stand in front of her. "And I'll keep following you, telling them to stop."

"Okay tough guy," she confronts him, unsteady on her feet as she points at his chest, for emphasize as well as support, "I'll just go to the store and buy myself a bottle. I'll save money that way too."

"Linds, they stop selling at 11:00. You won't get any more liquor tonight. Let's get you upstairs and in bed."

Horrid laughter erupts form her throat. "You'd like that wouldn't you. Well the answer is no. You can't have me anymore."

He draws his fingers through his hair in frustration. "I didn't mean…you need to sleep this off if you are going to function tomorrow. You know you don't do hangovers well."

She thinks it over for a minute before a twinkle enters her eye. "Okay, I'll go to my room."

Surprised at the lack of fight, he half supports, half carries her to her room, following her in, much to her discontent.

"No, who said you could come in? Stop walking around like you own the place, like you own me. Get out!"

"Just a sec." He ignores her, removing the tiny bottles of liquor from the mini bar as she crosses her arms sulking.

"You can go now," she responds as he finishes.

"Okay, have a good night and get some sleep." He quickly grabs her key from the table, and leaves.

Closing the door behind him, he takes a seat outside, guarding and protecting. It isn't until he hears her drunken snores that he leaves his post, determined to get his own shuteye.


	6. Good Morning

**A/N:** Thanks for all of the continual support, and here's the next chapter. Enjoy!

Thanks to **SallyJetson** for betaing.

**Chapter 6: Good Morning:**

The next morning Lindsay awakes to a familiar voice as Danny gently prods her. She opens her eyes only to immediately regret the decision as the harsh morning rays blind her. She gently curls back into the safety and security of her blankets, trying to find comfort but only finding pain as her head punishes her for the previous night.

She lays there unmoving as Danny continues to prod and poke, gradually becoming more forceful as she continues her hibernation, the only sign that she is awake coming from the small groans escaping every few moments. A rumbling stomach soon joins the pounding head and Danny has to jump out of the way as she suddenly rises from the bed and runs to offer her blessing to the porcelain god.

He watches from the doorway, hesitating, unsure of his role in their new relationship, wanting to help, to sooth, to protect, but not wanting to overstep, breaking the invisible rules set between them. Instead he resigns himself to his post and slowly sips his coffee.

She wipes her face with a tissue, continuing to hold steadfast to her receptacle. "Any of that for me?" She asks, her voice hoarse, her eyes downcast, her body slumped on the floor.

He reaches to produce a second cup and gently lowers it to her lips, retaining his grip as she takes a shaky sip of the heavenly liquid. He only allows her a taste before he takes it away, replacing it with pills and water. He watches her as she takes the caplets, noticing the rise of her throat as she swallows, the throat he has kissed a thousand times, whose territory he has marked as his own, marks now long since faded.

"I think I could use a shower." Her voice drags him back to the present as he shakes off the thoughts of the past.

"Sure, I'll just wait outside incase you, you need anything." He takes his leave reluctantly as she eases herself off the floor, trying to remain steady on her feet as the world whirls around her.

She slowly removes the clothes from the night before, sure that she'll never wear them again. Entering the shower she finally feels better as warmth surrounds and water gently rushes over her body, cleansing away the last 24 hours, returning her to herself once again.

* * *

As he hears the shower running, images flood his brain, her moist skin, her subtle curves, her lips moaning his name during their morning shower ritual. He stops himself, knowing where that line of thinking will lead, knowing that now isn't the time, isn't the place. He tries to find something to occupy his mind and prevent him from going crazy.

The TV flashes from channel to channel but nothing grabs his attention. He paces the floor, trying to remember every part of his presentation, but his mind runs blank as her gentle splashing is heard in the background, reminding him again that she's so close, and yet so far.

* * *

She wraps herself in a towel, loving the feeling of its softness against her skin. Exiting the bathroom she is surprise to see Danny busily folding her clothes.

"What? I was bored." Lindsay gives him an unbelieving look before simply shaking her head. "Don't worry I left the underwear," he adds as her back is turned.

The memories of last night suddenly return to her muddled brain. The sight of her lacy bra splashed across the table, the golden ring, the shame and guilt. She starts to quickly pick up the discarded garments and shoves them in her suitcase.

"It's not like I haven't seen them before." Danny mutters under his breath.

"Doesn't mean you get to see them again," she replies, a warning edge to her voice.

He doesn't heed the warning, "It's not like I haven't seen your whole naked body before."

"Stop thinking about me naked. You're not allowed to do that anymore."

"I can see you naked anytime I want. I just have to close my eyes. I know you, I know your body, I know the way you look when you cum, I know the best ways to make you cum, and cum hard."

"And you know the best ways to make me cry, and cry hard," she says before taking her clothes and closing herself in the washroom.

_Fuck._ Danny hadn't wanted it to end this way, to go there. He just wanted to remind her, to remind himself that they had been together, been good together. And as stupid and selfish as he knew it was, he also wanted to punish her for trying to find someone else, for being with someone else. Instead he had just ended up punishing himself, remembering all that he had done wrong, all that he had lost.


	7. Returning to the past

**A/N:** Thank everyone who's out there both those reviewing and those lurking out in cyberspace. Only a few more chapters to go!

Thanks to **SallyJetson** for the beta and to **Yemam2422** for the inspiration from her latest fic "Back to the Beginning", which helped to form elements of this chapter. She's just added a second part and I encourage everyone to give it a look if you haven't already.

**Chapter 7: Returning to the past:**

She never knew how she got through the presentation. Most of her facts and figures came back to her even with her head pounding every step of the way and her stomach doing summersaults. A few times she had forgotten what to say but luckily Danny picked up the slack and kept it all going without a hitch, reminding her once again how well they worked together, how well they fit.

She was actually very impressed with his part of the presentation. She knew that he was good at his job but it was more the getting the bad guy and dealing with the physical evidence that he loved, not so much the paper work and bureaucracy.

They finish the presentation to polite applause; most people taking an interest and few leaving before it finished. As they leave the stage Danny flashes her a huge smile and her heart begins its pitter-patter of old, feelings returning without permission, memories returning as apparitions.

_ "… make sure you call him sir," he teases her from behind. _

_ "Perfect fit," his hand scorching her skin from the mere touch._

_ "Well hello, Ms. Monroe," the voice and double take reddening her cheeks as she saunters over to him._

_ "Wanna go see Rough Sects?" a double take of her own as she realizes what he's asking._

_ "Shouldn't bet against a country girl," the pride in his voice warming her heart._

_ "Slow down there Montana. What'd you have in mind?" the shock and playfulness as she steers the conversation into new territory_

_ "No, it's just dangerous. I might ask you to marry me," the admiration as he looks down at her, something new showing behind his eyes._

_ "Have you told anybody else about this?" his worry and insecurity, her loyalty and trust._

_ "Beats the wheat field, no?" the pride in his city, the hope that she wants to stay._

_ "If there's anything you need from me, just let me know okay?" His worry and support, the offer of something more._

_ "I'm glad this happened." The way he held her, the way she felt so safe, so secure, so at peace in his arms. A place she never wanted to leave._

The many images from their past dance before her then slowly fade away.

"We still make a good team, no?" he asks, forcing her back to the present.

"Yeah, I guess we do" she smiles back.

They grab their gear, but all she can think about is her reaction to him earlier, how she continues to blame and punish him, that it doesn't seem to matter what he does now, only what he had done then. How she regrets her earlier words, and letting her emotions get the better of her once again. How she needs to find a way to move forward instead of contently looking back.

"Dan," she says as he turns to leave, "Thanks, for last night…and this morning."

"Don't worry about it. How's the head doing?"

"Still feels like there's a drummers' convention in my skull."

"Why don't you head up and pack while I stow the gear in the car."

"Sounds good. Thanks Dan."

"No problem, Montana."

She watches him walk away before turning to grab the elevator, determined to get away quickly. Turning the corner, her body is suddenly thrown against the wall as her skull smacks against the wood paneling. Stars dance before her eyes as a large hand curls around her throat, gripping and crushing her airway. She struggles to breathe as her attacker increases the pressure. She tries to scream but no sound is heard, and there is no one to hear it.


	8. We Meet Again

**A/N**: Thanks for all of the incredible feedback for the last chapter. Only two more chapters to go!

Thanks to **SallyJetson** for the betaing 

**Chapter 8: We Meet Again:**

She struggles to breathe as her attacker retains his hold around her neck, pushing her spine firmly against the wall.

"How dare you call my wife! What gives you any right, you bitch?" Mike spits, his breathe and saliva hot against her face. "What? You think its fun breaking up a guy's marriage?"

She gathers her strength and with her remaining breath gives him a swift kick where it counts, making him fall quickly to the floor, releasing his grip. She leans against the wall catching her breath, keeping her distance, always aware of his movements. "You're the one that cheated on your wife. Why would you cheat if you wanted to stay married?"

"Look you fucking whore, I love my wife." He grunts from the floor, still clutching his manhood. "We're happy. She's a great wife, a fantastic mother and still one of the best fucks in town."

"I guess you would know as you've probably sampled them all."

Suddenly Mike is on his feet and he swings his arm back to hit Lindsay but she's too quick as she grabs his arm, twists it around his back and nails his front to the wall.

"What gives you any fucking right?" he snarls, struggling against her hold, their roles now reversed.

"If you love her so much why go around sleeping with other women?"

"That has nothing to do with her. It's just sex. So I like to try something new when I'm away on business, it makes me feel good and nobody gets hurt. We both knew last night was just a one-night fling in a hotel. If you aren't into that, I'd suggest you stopping flirting with guys in hotel bars."

"Nobody gets hurt?" Her hold on his arm twisting a little further. "How's your wife feeling right now? Are you still telling me nobody gets hurt?"

"Well if you hadn't phoned her up she'd be fine. Her pain is your fault! I mean who does that?"

"My fault? You cheat on your wife and it's my fault?"

"Montana, is everything alright around here?" Danny asks as he takes in the scene of his partner holding her own against the jerk from last night who's still incapacitated against the wall.

"Yeah, everything's fine. I was just leaving," he states as she slowly releases him from her hold. As he walks away, staying far away from both of them, mumbling under his breath, "Why do I always end up with the psychos?"

"Montana, you okay?" His hand going to her neck, seeing the fresh redness against her pale skin, his blood boiling at the damage inflicted. "You wait here while I go after him."

"No Danny, let's just get out of here." Their eyes lock for a moment, silent messages passing, before he nods and slowly moves his hand from her neck, caressing with his touch.

She turns away from him, already moving to the door, moving away from the feelings caused from the brief contact of his fingers on her skin.

**A/N2:** I know some of you wanted Danny to come busting in to save Lindsay, but I figured Lindsay's such a strong character and can take care of herself when needed. I sort of wish we would see her taking down suspects on the show more often.


	9. Full Circle

**A/N**: While the end is finally here. Thank you everyone who has been reading, and reviewing or those just lurking out there.

Thanks once again to **SallyJetson** for being my beta and for supporting my writing habit :)

**Chapter 9: Full Circle:**

She stares out the car window, her body's stillness a contrast to the rapid movements of her mind, her thoughts ping-ponging through the ups and downs of the weekend, and of their relationship. She knows now what she needs, knows that one more backward glance is necessary in order to truly more forward.

"Why'd you cheat on me?"

The small breath of air escapes his lungs before he can prevent it, as the ride takes an unexpected turn. He doesn't want to go through it again, rehashing the past, reliving their downfall, his downfall. He'd said everything months ago, not that she had been in the mood to listen, to hear his pleas and explanations. Maybe this time would be different, maybe this time she'd hear the things he couldn't truly say. "I told you, it wasn't anything to do with you. It was just sex. Just a way to make the pain go away."

"Can guys really do that? Just separate things so completely? Make sex meaningless?"

Her calmness unnerves him, and he wonders if discussing his infidelity in a small vehicle while going 80 mph is actually such a good idea. "Linds, do you really want to talk about this again?"

"I …I just want to understand, I mean has cheating become such a commonplace thing that it's suddenly all right as long as nobody knows? Am I the one overreacting about this whole thing? Does it simply deserve a slap on the wrist and the uttering of "boys will be boys?"

He knows the importance of this conversation, knows that everything depends on how he words his response, knows that he may never get this chance again. "Cheating is wrong. I was wrong. I know that. I've always known that. Right after it happened, I knew that I couldn't escape from what I'd done; there was just so many other things in my head that clouded that for a while. If I had been in my right mind I would never have done it. You're not overreacting. I messed up, messed up big, I lost you and now I have to try to live with that." He chances a glance towards her, but her body is already turned away staring into the blurs of the world outside her window, unsure is she's even heard him, unsure if she even cares.

She has heard him, she'd heard it before too but somehow this time is different. This time she puts her feelings of betrayal and hurt aside to truly examine their lives, to analyze it as if they were pieces of evidence before her. She compares the acts of two very different men, both undergoing the same sinful act; one through grief and sorrow, desperate to feel again, to keep away the pain, one through pleasure alone, the thrill of the chase, the risk and excitement. She may not be ready to forgive him, but maybe she's closer to understanding him.

The rest of the ride is held in silence, each lost in their thoughts, but this time it isn't awkward, just peaceful.

Slowly Danny weaves through the city traffic and pulls up to her building. "Here we are." He turns to her, unsure if the weekend was a step forward or a step back, but not ready to let her go.

"Thanks. You know you were right back there. We do make a good team."

"Always have."

"Maybe…maybe we could try to work on it outside of work too. I mean, not like that," she replies blushing, "not like before. I'm not ready for that … not yet, but maybe as friends again? Maybe sometime we could watch Jaws together or something."

"I'd like that," he smiles.

"Good," she smiles back before getting out of the car. She feels good about them for the first time since it happened. They weren't back together, and maybe never would be, but it was high time she refound the friend she had lost and that was enough for her, for the moment anyway.


End file.
